Betrayed (49 page)

“I bet you also shifted into Aunt Janel e and took my present,” I added, hoping it was true.

“I was passing by when I saw the cleaners put the box outside. Imagine my surprise when I opened it and saw Valafar’s number on a card. The heavens wanted me to contact Valafar.” A trace of a whine entered Kenta’s voice. “No one knew I could shift. I wasn’t important enough for them to remember.”

“Grampa wil get to the truth.” Without a weapon, I had only one solution—make a dash for it.

“Where are we?”

“Jarvis Island. The combat started hours ago.” Kenta started to get up.

I saw my chance and lunged at him. The two of us crashed down with the chair under him. He flung me off him like I weighed nothing. My elbow hit the edge of the dresser, and a sharp pain shot up my arm.

“What are you doing? You can’t fight me in your weakened state.” He laughed mockingly.

I had no alternative. Bran was out there.

Alone. Needing my help. I needed to escape and find the others. I got up, and a dizzying flash of silver stars dotted my vision.

“If you think I’m going to hide in here while they hurt my friends, then you don’t know me. Haziel doesn’t train quitters.” I grabbed the brush and a container of cream and aimed for his head. He knocked them sideways with karate chops, laughing.

Heart thumping, I made a dash for the door.

Someone opened it from outside, hitting me smack on the forehead. I tried to teleport, but no such luck. My back connected with the wal , and I slid to the floor, fighting against another blackout.

“What are you doing in here?” Solange snapped.

Through dazed eyes, I watched Kenta shift from one foot to the other, a look I could only describe as fear in his eyes. “My dear Solange, I only meant to check on Lil—”

“Out. Get out and don’t ever come near her again,” Solange snarled in a cold voice.

Kenta’s eyes narrowed. “But I’m supposed to train her.”

Solange’s laugh was unpleasant. “You think my father would let you train her? He despises you.

The only reason he asked me to bring you here was because none of us could handle the Kris Dagger or remove the other weapons from the Guardians.” Kenta’s face worked. He used to seem invincible, physical y and mental y alert, but now he looked like a petulant child. His lower lip stuck out, and he wrung his fingers. “But he promised I’d train Lil.”

“You’re nothing but an errand boy,” Solange spat out and waved him away with a flick of her wrist.

“Get out of my sight.”

Kenta’s breath hissed when he exhaled, but he didn’t move. “He gave me his word.” Solange moved further into the room. Kenta flinched and shuffled toward the TV, eyes darting around the smal space until they met mine. There was so much panic and misery in their depths.

was so much panic and misery in their depths.

“Lil, please. Talk to him,” he begged in a choked voice. “I was loyal to him, and he promised to reward me.”

“Not letting me kil you is your reward,” Solange said with a sneer. “But you’re pushing your luck.” She glanced over her shoulder at me, blue eyes flashing with hatred. “What makes you think she has any power over him? She’s nothing but a pawn in this game.” She faced Kenta and ordered imperiously, “Leave us. My little sister and I have much to discuss.”

“I’m not your little sister,” I said, wanting to vanquish Solange so badly I could taste it, but in my weakened state, battling her would be a mistake. I needed my strength back and some answers. Her conversation with Kenta didn’t make sense, just like my presence here.

Kenta shuffled to the door, his face a mask of defeat. I wanted to feel sorry for him, but he didn’t deserve my pity.

Bring me my dagger,
I telepathed, but I doubted he heard me. The door closed behind him, and Solange turned.

She was even more beautiful up close. Her skin was smooth and flawless, her eyes bril iant blue.

“Believe me, Guardian. I wish that were true,” she retorted, eyes spitting fire. “In fact, I wish you were never born.”

Could she be implying…? No, Valafar cal ed al his fol owers his children. That must be what she meant. Throat dry as sandpaper, I attempted to swal ow as I pushed my booted feet onto the floor and stood. For the first time I noticed I stil wore my hunter clothes, minus the coat. The black shirt was wrinkled and no longer tucked in. Beside Solange in her leather pants, thigh-high boots, and tight top, I looked like a street urchin.

I lifted my chin. “If this is about Bran—” Solange cut me off with an ugly laugh. “I admit he and I had fun while it lasted, but no, this has nothing to do with Bran. This is about Valafar—our father.
Your mother came between him and my mother, just like you’re doing now.” She moved closer, and I pressed against the wal . “Do you know what it feels like to have a loving father one day then an indifferent one the next? I was only three when you were born, but I felt the change in him. Worse, he tel s everyone who wil listen that you’re his daughter, yet he never acknowledged me publicly. My mother had to hide the fact that they were lovers, that I was his child.” Blue eyes raked over me from head to toe.

“You’re useless without your dagger. Anyone can wield one, and before tonight is over, I’l show him.” Shock robbed me of words. I shook my head.

“No, it’s not possible,” I said flatly. “You can’t be my sister.”

“Half,” she spat.

“He said al his fol owers were his children.” I couldn’t afford to believe anything Solange said.

Although I always wanted a sister, having one from hel with an attitude to match didn’t figure into my wish list. “Where is he? Does he know I’m here?”

“Who do you think ordered us to bring you here? He knew the moment Bran signed the contract because it appeared in his hand.”

My stomach lurched. I took a step away from the wal and toward her, ready to destroy her. “Why?

What did you do with Bran and my friends?” She shrugged indifferently, but she stepped away from me. “Your friends are around. Valafar wil trade them for Angelia and the children you stole from us last night. If he can’t, they’l be of no use to him.”

Panic coursed through me. I had to do something

to

help

them,

and

Bran.

The

conversations I had with Valafar came back to mock me. “Why does he want me here? He said he accepted my decision to be a Guardian.”

“You believed everything he said to you, didn’t you? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.

This dome was built months ago, way before he made contact with you. This room was decorated weeks ago. Al he had to do was use the List as bait and wait for Bran to bite. Once he had Bran, he had you.” Solange’s eyes sharpened with dislike, but there was a trace of pity in their gleaming depths.

A racking wave of nausea hit me. I tried to process her words and what I knew, but it hurt to think. “I refuse to believe anything you say. Damien started this—”

“There’s no Damien, you stupid girl,” Solange snapped.

“Then who’s behind the mortal combat?” I snapped, trying not to panic.

“Valafar. Damien Corporation was owned by

“Valafar. Damien Corporation was owned by Coronis,” Solange explained as she paced the floor before pausing to glare at me. “The next leader of the Hermonite inherits it. Valafar knew al this because he ran the company for her the last twenty years. Why do you think he was in Seattle when he met your mother? He was visiting the Damien Corporation offices.” She stopped and shook her head. “He manipulated the heads of the houses to get them under one roof so that you, his greatest asset, the wielder of the Kris Dagger, the Chosen One, can kil al their strongest fighters one by one.” I gulped. That was insane. “I’m not fighting.”

“Yes you are. Not during the preliminary stage, which is going on now, nor the elimination stage, but the chal enger level, when the overal winner is chal enged by anyone, when everything goes…no stupid rules, nothing. The last demon standing becomes the ruler of the Hermonites.

Valafar expects you to be the champion tonight, to give him and the House of Neteru victory.” She chuckled, the sound drier than the crackling of fire on a cold winter night. “The problem is you don’t have the dagger. I do.”

A sob caught in my throat.

“Bran,” I whispered.

“Is out there fighting demon after demon so that he can be the chal enger in a battle he can’t win,” Solange said, eyes gleaming with amusement. “He won’t get that List, little sis. Valafar wil make sure of that. Come along,” she waved me over, “it’s time to take your place beside him.”

I pressed against the wal . “Never. I’l never stand by his side.”

Her eyes widened. “You dare to defy him.”

“Watch me. Tel him I’l be his champion if,
and only if,
he lets Bran and the others go,” I rasped out, my throat aching.

Solange laughed then crossed her arms, her top shifting to show more of her taut, tanned stomach. “Maybe I misjudged you, little sis.”

“Stop cal ing me little sis,” I said with a bite. It was Izzy’s nickname for me. A lump formed in my throat thinking about her and Kim, Remy and Sykes, and…Bran. It hurt too much knowing he was out there fighting for his life. For his soul. “You can leave now.”

I reached for the door knob and turned, my eyes fixed on Solange’s. The eyes said a lot about what went on in a person’s head, Kenta used to tel us during martial art classes. He might be a traitor now, but he was an amazing teacher once.

My psi energy was stronger and my dizziness was waning though part of it, I now realized, was due to lack of food. Hunger pangs gnawed my insides, but they were nothing compared to the rage burning in my heart. I had al owed myself to be betrayed in the worst possible way by an ambitious father who’d stop at nothing to have me by his side.

“Valafar expects us both in his box,” Solange warned, moving closer.

Heart beating like tom-toms, I shook my head. “Too bad. I’m staying right here until he agrees to my terms.”

Her eyes narrowed. I knew the moment she made the decision to teach me a lesson for resisting. She charged at me. I jerked the door open, using it as a weapon. A dul thud fil ed the room when the wood connected with her shoulder. She lost her balance and went down.

I jumped over her and gunned for the hal way.

Her hand closed around my ankle, yanking me backward. The hard, cemented floor of the hal way rose to meet me. Refusing to bang my head again, I broke my fal with my hands, glanced over my shoulder and kicked at her with my other leg.

Her fingers were like tentacles, not letting go.

She twisted my foot and pain shot up my leg. Turning to ease the pain, I bent my free leg and aimed for her face, connecting with her nose. She screamed obscenities, let go of me, and teleported into the hal way.

Blood oozed from a cut on her lower lip. She wiped her hand across her mouth and looked at the thin smear left behind.

“You’l pay for that,” she snarled.

“You twisted my ankle, so we’re even.” Pure adrenaline surged through my veins. I stumbled to my feet and faced her.

I cried out when she backhanded me across the face. Stars exploded in my head, but with them came a new surge of energy. My senses picked up on the presence of thousands of demons to my right and the single beacon that was Bran’s, my friends, and the pulse of the Kris Dagger though I couldn’t pin-point its exact location. If I closed my eyes, I bet pin-point its exact location. If I closed my eyes, I bet I’d find their psi energies and find them.

“Do you real y think you can escape?” she asked, her red lips twisted. “This dome is underground and heavily guarded. My people wil smoke you.”

“Coronis Isle was ful of your people, and we smoked them,” I retorted.

Her eyes flashed red and she tensed, as though preparing to lunge at me again. Then her shoulders drooped.

A tight smile curled her lip. “Nice try. You pul a stunt like that again, I wil hurt you.” She reached down inside her boots and brought out a dagger.

My first instinct was to kick it out of her hand, but then I noticed the clear crystal and wavy blade as it rose from a gilded hilt decorated with colorful stones. Instead of the usual green, the chiseled inscriptions were patterned in red, and a prominent red teardrop sat in the middle of the guard. The handle was black, and the pommel, also gold, had tiny decorations.

It was the Kris Dagger, except everything was red.

“What have you done to my dagger?” I demanded.

25. The Red Athame and Allies

“Yours?” Solange sneered. “This is Coronis’, the Red Athame.”

The memory of the battle with Coronis flashed in my head like a nightmare. The Red Athame was the anti-Kris Dagger. While my dagger replenished psi power, the Athame drained it. In the wrong hands, it could destroy Guardians and humans alike.

“That’s not possible,” I squeaked. “I destroyed it before we defeated Coronis.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No, you didn’t. She used glamour and fooled you. Valafar found it on the edge of the ravine where her palace once stood,” she added in a bitter voice. “I didn’t know about it until last night when it chose me, just like the Kris chose you. Now move,” she ordered jerking her head to our right.

Glancing at the dagger one last time, I turned and faked an injury. I hobbled to buy time, one hand and faked an injury. I hobbled to buy time, one hand on the wal for support. I wanted my powers back before we got to Valafar. Plus, I didn’t know what was worse, Coronis’ dagger resurfacing or having it in the hands of my evil sister. Its powers were destructive.

“What are you planning to do with it?” I asked.

“You’l see,” she said mysteriously. “Can’t you walk a little faster? You’re supposed to self-heal.”

“Not after you sucked my psi energy,” I retorted.

“I didn’t touch you.” She sounded both insulted and revolted.

“Who then? One of your minions?”

She poked me in the back. “Shut up and keep moving. I didn’t even twist your ankle that much.”

“It’s the same one your people hurt last week,” I fibbed.

“Yeah, whatever.” She poked me again.